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parttime-creative · 3 years ago

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The Portrait of Regina Mills - Part 1/?

This is based on this prompt by @italymystery-swanqueen

________ paring: SwanQueen summary: Emma and Henry are hired to house sit an old manor in the middle of the woods. Nothing special. Almost like a vacation, according to Henry. But then weird things start to happen... WC.: 4.5k read on AO3 next _______

When they had left the apartment, the sun had been shining bright and lovely. Now it was obscured by foggy clouds. The hazy light gave the forest an eerie look as they passed the town sign. It welcomed them with bold, chipped letters to Storybrooke.

What a strange name, Emma thought. A strange name fitting for the strange circumstances of their visit.

Emma reached over to her son, who had fallen asleep on the passenger seat. She gave him a little nudge. “Henry, wake up.” The teenager grumbled and shifted on his seat, making the book he had to read over the summer slip from his lap in the process. The portrait of a dashing young, Victorian boy looked up at her from the floor, as if he was asking how could you let this happen? Emma sighed and gave Henry another nudge, more assertive this time.

“Henry, wake up. We’re here.” He grumbled again, but finally started to stretch just about when the first houses came into view. It was a small town, with cosy, old brick houses. Tiny, well-kept front lawns with rose bushes lined the street and ivy crept up the walls of every other house. It almost looked like it was plugged right out of a modern fairy tale.

“This will be a quiet vacation.” Henry mumbled. Emma wasn’t sure if she still heard the remains of his nap in his voice, or if he was already bored. Who could blame him? A fifteen-year-old probably would enjoy his summer differently than spending it in a small town in the countryside. “It’s not a vacation,” Emma reminded him “It’s a job.”

“Yeah, a job where you sit in a big house and enjoy life. Sounds a lot like vacation to me!” he teased. Emma chuckled. Maybe he wasn’t so disappointed about having to spend his summer here after all. When was the last time they had left the city? Emma couldn’t remember, and probably neither could Henry. They didn’t have much they could spend on vacation these days. Emma already worked two jobs to be able to send him to one of the better schools in the area. He should have it better, when he grows up. He should have a proper education, so Emma gladly worked overnight shifts and took every commission she got. So naturally she had jumped at the opportunity to take an unusually well-paid job in the countryside, just to bring Henry out of the city for once.

“How did Milha hear of that… job, anyways?” Henry asked, while watching the old houses slowly travel by. “From an old acquaintance of hers,” Emma answered, while turning on what looked like the main street. “But like … housesitting? Who thinks of a freelancing security agency for a housesitting job?” Emma shrugged.

“A certain Mr. Gold, as it seems,” she pointed out of the window as their GPS announced that they had reached their destination. The car stopped in front of a pawn shop that could easily be mistaken for an antique shop, judging from all the ancient looking furniture and - quite frankly - junk in the window. “Country folk are weird,” Henry mumbled and finally picked up the book he had dropped. “What do you think, does he sell books in there too?” he asked as they stepped out of the car. “Probably only ones that crumble to dust in your fingers.” “Or ones that contain weird rituals and curse you when you touch them!” he added and made spooky noises to make his mother laugh. He succeeded.

The little bell over the entrance chimed when they entered. The air smelled of dust and wood polish. Not much of the foggy sunlight made its way through the tightly packed windows. Emma had to squint her eyes until they got used to the dim light in order to not bump into anything. How could someone fit so much stuff into such a tiny shop? When they reached the counter two dark eyes gleamed down at her. A shiver ran down her spine as she looked the man up and down. His dark eyes peered through loose strands of hair and his thin lips parted in a cold, malicious smile that sent another shiver down Emma’s spine. She cleared her throat.

“Mr. Gold? My name is Emma Swan. You-” “Ah, Yes! I’ll be right out. One moment!” A voice from the back cut her off. It was only now that Emma realised the shop owner she had been talking to, was in fact a life-sized painting hung behind the counter. She glanced over to Henry, who had to suppress a giggle. Emma rolled her eyes. Stupid light. Stupid atmosphere. Stupid little town. It would have been all too fitting for a pawn shop in a fairy tale town, filled with weird looking knickknacks, to be owned by a villainous gentleman.

The man that joined them shortly after didn’t look as malicious as his oil and canvas counterfeit. He did however share a striking resemblance with it. The same dark eyes, that meticulously scanned every inch of the room, and eventually settled on Emma. He seemed to notice the analysing look she was giving him and gave her a toothy smile. “My great grandfather, Damian Gold. I can’t deny the family resemblance, can I?” he answered her unspoken question. “So, how can I help you, Miss Swan?”

“Ah, right…” Emma shook her head to sort her thoughts and regain her footing again. Why did that painting throw her off so much in the first place? “Mr. Gold, I am from the private security agency you inquired about a property protection assignment?” “Oh Yes! Yes, yes! Perfect. You arrived quite quickly I must say. And who is this dashing young gentleman?” his eyes wandered over to Henry. A sudden protective urge overcame Emma and she made a step aside in order to shield him from the man’s view. “This is my son, Henry. I hope it’s no problem he came-...” “Oh no! No, not at all. In fact, the owner is rather fond of children.” Another toothy grin made the words sound more suspicious than probably intended. “No worries. Though, would you be so kind to wait outside for a moment? I will just close up the shop, so we can discuss the details over lunch? My treat!” With that he ushered Emma and Henry out of the front door and disappeared

“He is weird,” Henry commented dryly. “He reminds me of a gnome,” Emma agreed. “Yeah! One of the ones who makes trades with you but ultimately scam the hell outta you and in the end, you have to give up your firstborn child or something!” “Henry that’s-” “Like a fey! Or… what was he called? That guy from the fairy tale… Rumpelstiltskin? Quite fitting that he owns a pawn shop, don’t you think? I bet he has scammed hundreds of people already! He-” “Henry! That’s enough. He is still a client!”

In that moment the doorbell chimed again, as Mr. Gold left his shop, a big brown envelope tucked under his arm. “Shall we then?”, he asked with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. For a moment Emma was worried he had heard Henry’s harangue. However, if he had, it didn’t seem to bother him. The shopkeeper lead them down the street to a cosy little diner, that looked to be one of the towns few highlights. It was quite busy, almost as if half the town would gather here for it’s lunch. But it looked like the young woman weaving through the tables, was used to it. “Please, excuse me. We have caught the lunch rush. If I had known, you would arrive quite so on time, I would have reserved us a table. I do hope however Granny’s grilled cheese will make up for that.” “Grilled cheese?! For sure!”, Henry exclaimed excitedly and rushed in. Emma looked over to Mr. Gold nervously. “Sir, you really don’t have to. I can-“ “Nonsense! It is my pleasure. You drove all the way out here after all.” “In that case, after you.”, she reluctantly agreed and opened the door for him. He gave her a smile and followed Henry, who had already secured a seat at the counter. Emma was about to call him over to the last remaining table in a corner, but Mr. Gold already slid into a seat next to him and waved for the young waitress. Emma sighed and followed them obediently. She didn’t like to sit this openly with her back to the entrance, but what other choice did she have? “Mom! There you are. Mr. Gold already ordered us grilled cheese! And look! They have bear claws as well! Do you think, I could…?” Before Emma could say anything Mr. Gold already put a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Of course! A young man such as yourself, needs to grow after all, don’t you agree?” That made Henry sit up straight in his seat to appear taller and beamed at his mother, who sighed and just nodded in agreement. Who was she to deny her son a desert she didn’t even have to pay for?

While they waited for their meals Henry had begun to interrogate Mr. Gold about the town, his shop and any other topic his mind jumped to. At first Emma wanted to stop him, but the pawnshop owner didn’t seem to be bothered. In fact, he seemed to have taken a liking to the boy and patiently answered all of his questions. When Henry’s lunch arrived first and the boy’s mouth was occupied he even started to entertain him with stories about all kinds of weird knickknacks he had encountered in his time owning the shop.

In the meantime, Emma let her eyes wander through the diner. It was not nothing special. A classic, small town diner visited by it’s regulars. There was a table with a short haired woman and a man across from her, who looked to be her husband. He held a toddler on his lap and desperately tried to feed him some pancakes. The little boy however was far more interested in the napkin tied around his neck and happily giggled as he ripped it to pieces. “No, don’t Neal! You need your nappy!” Emma chuckled as the woman reached over to her son and took the paper pieces out of his little hands before he could shove them into his mouth. “David! Don’t let him eat that!” “Calm down, Snow. Let him have his fun. That won’t poison him.” The young mother obviously disagreed with that sentiment. Though instead of arguing, she huffed, crossed her arms and fell back into her chair pouting. It was then when her eyes met Emma’s and gave her an apologetic look. Emma just smiled and nodded in Henry’s direction with a look that meant ‘Hang in there. It gets easier.’ The young woman smiled appreciatingly.

Emma’s eyes wandered away from the young mother to the wall behind her, where a staircase seemed to lead to some guestrooms. The wall was plastered with all sorts of pictures, photos and even some children drawings. The photos have had current and former friends of the diner as she recognised several of the faces in the room. There was the young family, happily smiling into the camera with a new-born in the mother’s arms. The young waitress arm in arm with an old, motherly looking woman. Some of the men from the front, who smelled like they were working in the harbour and Emma even thought she found a younger version of Mr. Gold next to a dark-haired woman. The photo was one of the oldest. It’s sepia tones spoke of over fifty years, maybe even seventy? But that was impossible. Mr. Gold himself was at best in his sixties. Maybe that as well was one of his ancestors? They sure looked alike. “Mom? Are you not going to eat anything?” Henry’s voice drew her attention back to the present. “Your cheese is getting cold!” “Sorry, Henry, I uh… got distracted.” Mr. Gold followed her look. “Ah, the Nolans. Lovely couple. He works in the local animal rescue an she’s a first-grade teacher. Their son, Neal, is quite the handful, isn’t he? Lovely boy.” He stated matter of factly. Though something else travelled along in his voice, that Emma couldn’t quite pinpoint yet. She decided that was something to look out for in the future. For now, she finally gave her lunch it’s well deserved attention.

When Henry dug into his bear claw, Mr. Gold put his hands palm down onto the counter and looked expectedly at Emma. “So, Miss Swan. Shall we discuss, why I asked you to come here?” Emma swallowed her last bite and nodded. “Sure Mr. Gold. Milah already mention it would regard a property protection?” “Did she? Well… my dear Milah, must have misunderstood something there. The property is not in need of any protection. In fact, it is well secured, with cameras and everything. The owner is rather looking for, how do I put this…” “A house sitter?”, Henry chimed in, his cheeks full with the deserts sweet dough. “Well, I wouldn’t have chosen such a wording but basically, yes.” Mr. Gold agreed. “You see, Miss Swan, the manor is old, and quite big. It has yet to be bought by someone with the … financial requirements. So, for now, it’s empty and in need of some… love keeping. The late owner has not left any living relatives, nor a written heir. So, until the town has found an appropriate buyer, a state issued steward is looking after the property. Unfortunately, the dear Mrs. Potts had to leave due to a family emergency. It is unclear when she will be back, so we were in desperate need for someone to look after the poor estate until things have sorted themselves out.”

Emma listened intently. So, Henry had been right after all, she didn’t have to worry about any security details. At least for him, this really could be something like a vacation in a luxurious manor. But there was one thing, that didn’t make sense… “If there is no will, why doesn’t the property just fall back to the city?” “Oh, there is a will! A rather intricate one in fact, it just doesn’t state an heir. So, the manor does still, by law, belong to the family of the late owner until the will is fulfilled. That is why it must be kept in perfect condition, as it is written down.” He almost lovingly patted the brown envelope. “It’s all here. A copy of course. The original document is far too valuable to give out, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Emma repeated rather dumbfounded. Mr. Gold gave her an almost sheepish grin, as he pushed the envelope towards her. “I must ask you, to read the instructions carefully and follow them with no exceptions. That is what’s written in the will, after all.” An unsettling feeling crept up Emma’s spine. “And what are those instructions?” “Oh I wouldn’t know! I am but a humble messenger, no attorney. I would never dare to disturb a resting souls last mail.” Emma narrowed her eyes and took the envelope. “How long since the owner has passed?” She asked while fidgeting with the opening. “Seventy-five years.” Emma as well as Henry looked up to stare at the man. “Sefentifife yearff?” Henry repeated with the last of his bear claw still in his mouth. “That is quite some time.” “Indeed it is.” “And there hasn’t been found an adequate buyer yet?” “Not yet.” “Well… I am no steward, but I certainly can look after a house for a few weeks.” “Splendid! That’s what I wanted to hear! And after all, you drove all the way out here, didn’t you?”, he winked and once again a tingle ran down Emma’s spine. Something about this man was off, and it seemed more obvious by the second, yet she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. He had been more than polite, welcoming even. He had been good to Henry and even bought them lunch as well as rather lucrative job opportunity, so why couldn’t she trust him?

“Well then.”, he clapped his hands. “Lunchtime is over for me. I have to get back to my shop. Don’t hesitate to contact me, if any questions or problems arise. I am certain though, there won’t be any, don’t you agree?” With that the diner’s door closed behind him, just as Emma was about to ask, where they would even find the manor. The city certainly didn’t look big enough for such an ‘estate’ to be located in. “Shit”. Was all Emma could mumble, as her eyes went back to the brown envelope in her hands. “Well… let’s see what this is all about.”

Henry scooted closer as she opened it and curiously peered over her shoulder when she pulled out the stack of papers inside. “Oh there is a map!”, he exclaimed and snatched one of the neatly folded papers from her hand. Before Emma could even say hey, he already unfolded the layout of the admittingly enormous estate and began to study it. She sighed and shifted her focus back to the remaining documents. Alongside the manors layout there were also a plan of the surrounding property, as well as some other buildings scattered on the lands. Emma thought to make out a gardener shed, some stables, a crypt and what looked to be a garage of sorts? What ever it was, it was noted to be below ground level. Maybe it was a cellar? Such a grand manor probably had at least one wine cellar.

The other documents mostly consisted of legal forms, grocery lists, instructions on how to care for the grounds, cleaning instructions and other things around the house. However, there was one paper that didn’t quite fit in with the rest. It was a handwritten list of a few bullet points titled rules.

One is not allowed to redecorate anything inside the house without the explicit permission of the current owner.

One is especially not allowed to rearrange or even take away any hanging decorations on the walls such as paintings, photographs or the like.

One is not allowed to go through the owner’s personal belongings.

There is to be kept a fresh bowl of red apples on the kitchen counter at all times.

Any wall decorations such as paintings, photographs or the like are to be kept dust free at all times.

Pets are not allowed.

At night all windows leading to the outside are to be closed off with curtains and doors must be locked.

Any open flamed fires are to be kept in their designated places. No open flames such as candles or similar are allowed at all times

Any further instructions are to be followed without questions.

Signed R. Mills

Emma frowned. What a weird set of rules. Some of them she could understand, like the pet and door one. But what about the fire thing? Or why was there a rule about wall decorations? And why did she have to look for apples? This... was just weird. Also, further instructions? She turned the page on it’s back. She looked through the other documents. There were no further instructions. She shrugged. This probably was one of the remains of the late owner. Something that was no longer up to date, but kept because of the will. Well, these instructions might be weird but, they certainly weren’t hard to follow. This should be a breeze.

Suddenly Emma felt a cold hand on her shoulder and she jerked away. “OH GOSH! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you Miss…” Emma turned around and looked into the face of the young mother. “Swan… Emma Swan, and you are…?” Emma grumbled, while trying to calm her racing heart. “Mary-Margaret Nolan. So nice to meet you!” the young mother beamed at her. Emma looked her up and down. She was pretty sure, she couldn’t quite hide her annoyance. Countryfolk were always up in each other’s business. And lo and behold the next words that left the young woman’s mouth were “Sorry, but I couldn’t but over hear that you’ll be staying in the old mills estate?” Emma sighed deeply. Small towns really were the worst. “Yes, we are.” “Oh dear.” The young woman seemed to honestly be worried as she clenched her pearls right then and there. “You really should think about that decision. The old manor is haunted! I wouldn’t want you to get hurt, and your son he-…“ “Snow please!”, her husband interrupted her. “Stop telling your old fairy tales. These are not your students you have to keep from entering private property with some made up ghost stories.” “But David” She exclaimed outraged. “These aren’t made up! I’ve seen it my with my own eyes!” She turned back to Emma. “You see, I’ve lived here my whole life! And the manor has been void ever since. But every now and then someone comes here, tasked to look after it. But they never stay long! I tell you, something weird is going on in that old manor. It’s haunted! Or maybe even cursed! Please, be careful, I don’t want you to…” “Please, Mrs. Nolan, this is enough.” Emma abruptly stood up “Thank you for your concern, but I assure you, we will be fine. Henry, are you ready?” Her son nodded and folded the plans he had studied back together. “We really appreciate your thoughts, but there are no such things as ghosts. And the only curse this house probably holds is the curse of time and dust, which I plan to quickly get rid of. So if you would be so kind to point us into the direction of the manor, I would be rather grateful.” “Sure. It’s just down the main street, turn right on the end and then keep following the road just outside the town. The address is 108th Mifflin Street, if you want to use your GPS.” The husband answered on the young mother’s behalf, who had resigned to pouting again. “Good luck with the ghosts.” Was all he said after Emma had thanked the pair and headed back to her car, with Henry in tow.

“Do you really think it’s haunted?” He quietly asked as they reached the yellow bug. “Bullshit.” Emma waved aside. “These are just rumours. Nothing out of the ordinary in a small country town like this. They don’t have anything interesting happening here, so they resign to telling ghost tales in order to fell special. Don’t worry.”

Henry just nodded. He didn’t seem to fully be convinced. And even Emma, wasn’t sure if the shiver that ran down her spine came from the AC in her car or from the thought of spending the next weeks with some supposedly undead roommates. But ghosts weren’t real! She reminded herself, as she saw in her rear-view mirror two dark eyes gleaming through Golds shop window. They were gone however as soon as she turned her head. Ghosts aren’t real! Pull yourself together! With that she finally started the engine and drove down the main street.

‘Just outside the town’ was the understatement of the century. They drove another half an hour through the woods until their GPS announced that they had reached their destination. “Here? But… here’s nothing!”, Henry stated the obvious.

Emma put the car in reverse and rolled a few hundred meters back. Did she maybe miss a turn? No, there was nothing. She drove back to where the GPS had told them and exited the car. They stood in the middle of the woods with no… wait! There! On the right side of the road a narrow, overgrown drive way was hidden behind a strangely curved three. She got back into the car and followed the gravel pathway into the woods. A few hundred meters in the trees gave way to a grand metal gate. “There, in fact, was not nothing…” was all Henry could say as he gaped at the enormous house behind the gravel driveway. Emma got out of the car and had to compose herself as well. The roof of the manor towered over the tree tops. The drive way surrounded a dried out fountain, overgrown with moss and algae and was wide enough for two cars to easily pass each other. Or carriages, judging from the age of this! Emma thought as she pushed against the metal gate that squeakingly gave way for her trusted beetle to pass.

“Let’s hope the house is better kept on the inside, than the outside”, Emma commented as they parked before a building that she thought to be the former stables she had seen on the property plans. “If not, this might not be as much of a vacation as we had hoped for.” “Are you joking? This is awesome! I bet that thing has tons of secret passages!” Henry exclaimed and excitedly ran towards the big front door. “Come on mom! We can unpack later! Let’s see what it looks like on the inside!”

Emma sighed and chuckled at her son’s sudden excitement. Adventure was already calling to him as it seemed. She followed him and pulled out the delicate metal key, that had been in the envelope along side all the instruction documents. The heavy oak doors groaned as they pushed them open. Immediately the smell of dust, old carpets and withered flowers welcomed them inside. With an echo the doors closed behind them again and Emma and her son found themselves in a high entrance hall. Big, ceiling high windows lined both sides of the front door and led the sunlight to shine upon two sets of stairs that went along side both walls of the hall up to the second floor before meeting each other on a balcony above Emma’s head. Just below the balcony Emma met the amber eyes of a dark-haired woman looking down at her. A shiver ran down her spine as the life size portrait seemed to eye her up and down. Emma had never seen a painting that looked quite so… alive. Her olive skin seemed to glow in the shifting sunlight. Her raven hair framed her face with soft waves and her plump lips where curled in an almost arrogant smirk. She sat way to straight on the chair she was drawn upon. Like a queen, posing to be carved into stone for all eternity. To her feet laid a dog, tongue out, almost smiling. Emma couldn’t determine the breed. It looked almost like a mix. Completely unfitting to the regal woman behind it. The eyes of the portrait where painted in a way that seemed to follow Emma around the room, never taken off of her, looking right through her, as if she was constantly asking What are you doing in my home? Emma had the unsettling feeling, that she had seen that woman before… but where?

“Mom?” Henry’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “What? Sorry, kid, I was distracted.” “Yeah, by that portrait. Do you know her?” “No… I don’ think so… But I guess this is the late owner…. R. Mills”

Tbc…

#SwanQueen #SwanQueen FanFiction #Once upon a time #OuaT #ghost story #mystery #the mystry behind the portrait #AU #Dorian Gray - AU

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